Client: I need you to delete this page from the website, we don’t need it anymore.
Me: OK, the page is deleted. I also deleted any links that referred to that page.
Client: Thanks, but now when I try to click the link to the page I get a message saying the page is not found?
Me: Yes, that’s correct, since the page was removed, it no longer exists, thus the message.
Client: So you’re saying I’m going to get this message from now on every time I click on the link? That’s unacceptable.
Me: Uhh, sorry, but I’m a bit confused. You asked for the page to be removed, and now you are concerned that the page is no longer there? Also, how are you even still clicking on this link? Is there a link pointing to the page that I forgot to remove from somewhere?
Client: Well, the link is right here, in the email I sent you earlier! I can still click on it! But now it takes me to some page that says “Page Not Found!”
I was too stunned to respond.
Music Themed Cover of The New Yorker, 16th April 2018. The cover was illustrated by Tom Gauld.
todays the day Neil banged out those tunes.
The evolution of the Latin alphabet, courtesy of data artist Matt Baker. For a deeper dive, see the out-of-print treasure Shapes for Sounds, a comprehensive visual history of the alphabet.
via Swiss Miss
CHIEF HALFTOWN & HIS FRIENDS
A full-blooded Seneca Indian, Chief Halftown has traveled thousands of miles in helping thousands of youngsters learn to enjoy the fun of bowling. There are Chief Halftown Junior Bowling Clubs in over 200 cities in the United States and Canada.
Stanley Whitney, Untitled, 1989
Client: UGH. All you internet generation people are the same, too literal.
Me: You asked for an 8x10 print. I gave you that.
Client: But I WANTED a 4x6!
Hoy en @clubsubterraneo.oficial warmp up #dj mix junto a @nathypeluso @siempretriste @djdacel comienza a las 22:30 #nietchrist #nathypeluso #clubsubterraneo #club #rap
“We were pretty poor back in Mexico. My parents were divorced. Mom did the best she could. She was always a hustler. She’d sell jewelry, or food, or anything that she could. But a lot of nights there still wouldn’t be enough to eat. We’d survive on tortillas and salt. I was only eight when we came to America. So I was too young to understand. I think my mom thought she could make some money and bring us home. She thought she’d learn English, and maybe start a business. But it was so much harder than she expected. We moved so much looking for work. She’s fifty and she still cleans houses every day. Every year she gets more worn down. She’s been getting sick a lot lately. But she can’t afford to stop. She never will. Right now I’m in school. I always thought I had to be the best student because I’m undocumented. I thought I’d go to law school, or graduate school. But now I’m not so sure. My mom would literally destroy her body to make that happen for me. How could I allow that to happen? I’m a Dreamer. And everyone loves the Dreamers because we’re a perfect package to sell. But why am I the only one who gets the chance to feel safe? Whenever I hear ‘I stand with Dreamers,’ I always think about my mom. I’m not willing to throw her under the bus. I’m not willing to be a bargaining chip to make her seem like a criminal. Everything people admire about Dreamers is because of our parents.”